


This Cat Right Here

by doomtwinkie (shinysparks)



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Crack, F/M, Fluff and Crack, I've had waaaaay too much caffeine, Ichabbie Forever, Ichabbie Holloween
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 12:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8401144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinysparks/pseuds/doomtwinkie
Summary: Hilarity ensues in the Crane-Mills house when a sorcerer transforms Ichabod into something small and furry...





	1. HORK!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thymelady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thymelady/gifts).



> Written for Ichabbie Holloween's superstition/black cat prompt. :D

"Jenny, it's me,” Abbie said, her cell phone up to her ear as she sat stalled at an abnormally long stop light, "listen, I need a favor. Yeah. Can you pick me up some cat stuff, you know, for like a pet cat? No, I know it sounds ridiculous, but it's important. Just grab the basics and some cat food.”

Abbie turned and eyed the fluffy, black kitty sitting in the passenger’s seat next to her. The cat’s twinkling, blue-gray eyes went wide with shock, and he gave off a long, scandalized sounding meow.

“Actually, skip the cat food and just bring me a dozen cans of tuna and salmon. No, not the canned cat food. The human grade kind. Maybe grab a few packs of chicken as well. And some rum - no, not for the cat, for me. And a pint of ice cream - spring for the good stuff. I’ll pay you back when I see you.”

The light turned green, and the kitty meowed again.

“Look, I've gotta go. I'll see you at home in an hour. Okay, okay. Bye."

_Beep._

"You neglected to tell her,” the cat spoke, as Abbie tossed her phone down onto the center console.  
“Yeah, I think this is something that really needs to be done in person, Crane,” she told the cat. “Oh, hey Jenny! Guess what! A sorcerer turned Crane into a cat because he couldn’t stop correcting that sorcerer on the finer points of American history!”  
“Yes, but I actually _lived_ through those moments of American history, Leftenant! You cannot expect me to say silent when such gross errors are made!”  
“I can when you’re staring down a sorcerer, Crane!” She exclaimed with a loud sigh, “you’re extremely lucky that he was tired and really not in the mood to pull out one of those enormous old spellbooks he had lying around! This could’ve been much worse.”  
“I am a cat! I fail to see how this could be... _HORK!_ ”

Crane suddenly stopped, his furry belly beginning to jerk back and forth. His eyes grew wide, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth.

“Crane?” Abbie asked, gazing over at him, “are you alright?”  
“HORK! HORK! LEF...LEFTEN...ANT! HORK! WHAT’S... HAPP... HORK! ...ENING...” He mumbled, still jerking and tongue still lolling, “BLEEEEEEEEEEH!”

Suddenly, a hairball the size of a ping-pong ball exploded from his mouth, and landed on the floorboard of Abbie’s car with a loud “PLOP!” Crane stared down at it, offering a quiet “mew” and feeling quite pleased with himself for some odd reason. That feeling disappeared the moment the moment he looked up at Abbie. She stared back at him, her mouth dropped open slightly, in both shock and horror.

“When is this spell supposed to wear off again?” He asked, nervously wiggling his fuzzy tail.  
“Four days, on Halloween night,” Abbie said with a groan, pinching the bridge of her nose, “boy, I hope Jenny remembers the rum...”


	2. Instincts

“So, that’s the cat, huh?” Crane heard Jenny say as he explored the bags of cat supplies she’d brought. He jumped into one of the bags, relishing in how it crinkled as he slunk around within it. After a few moments of hesitation, he gave into the urge to chase his tail in a circle, and he found he quite enjoyed it - at least, until he caught his tail, forgot himself, and bit down hard. He yowled loudly, before jumping out of the bag and into another. Whereas the first bag contained a soft, kitty bed, the second had toys and treats. He pawed at one of the toy balls he found, becoming far too excited when he realized there was a bell within it. In fact, he became so excited and bemused, he began to purr happily.

It was instinct, and he was nothing if not compelled to follow it.

“I never took you for a cat person, Abbie,” He heard Jenny say, but he quickly ignored her, instead slinking down into the second bag and trying to claw open a package of bacon jerky he’d found within.

“She’s a beautiful cat,” Jenny said. Crane pricked up his ears and stuck his head out of the bag slowly, leering at her. The purring stopped, and he pulled down the side of the bag with his paw.  
“It’s a he, actually,” Abbie corrected, eyeing Crane eyeing Jenny. He wiggled his tail, annoyed, before turning his back to them both. There was a toy mouse in the bag that caught his eye, after all, and the prey needed to be dealt with. Instinct again, of course. He bent down, butt wiggling back and forth as he prepared to pounce...

“Are you sure?” Jenny asked, turning to look at him - at his back end, “I mean, from this angle, you can’t really tell.”

Crane stopped, and sat up, and turned and eyed Jenny once again - dangerously, this time. Abbie laughed, nervously.

“Maybe he’s been neutered, though. I hear there tends to be some shrinkage afterwards,” Jenny then offered.

That did it. Abbie groaned, her face falling into her hands as Crane leapt angrily out of the bag. He kneaded on the rug for a moment, flexing his sharp claws and wondering how best to respond to such insolence regarding his furry family jewels. It was instinct, of course, and instinct required vengeance.

And that’s when he saw them: Jenny’s boots. New boots... nice boots. He blinked happily, and scurried over to them, circling and sniffing. And then, instinct took over completely, and he piddled on each one, marking them with his scent.

Abbie’s mouth fell open, watching him spray each boot down; her eyes bugging out of her head from the shock. If Crane had been able to smile, he would have. Instead, he sat up proudly, and purred once more. Satisfied with his delinquency, he calmly walked over and hopped up onto the stool next to Jenny. He looked up at her, and she smiled. She reached over and petted him gently.

“What a good little kitty you are,” she told him, scratching his ears.

_Yes,_ Crane thought to himself, _I’m a good kitty, indeed..._


	3. Dignity

“You still didn’t tell her.”

Abbie sighed heavily, filling the plastic box in front of her with scented litter, being careful not to spill any onto the clean bathroom floor.

“How could I tell her, Crane,” Abbie said, sitting the jug of kitty litter down and rolling her eyes at the furry, black cat perched next to the sink, “when you went weewee all over her new boots?”  
“Weewee?” Crane said, twitching his whiskers.  
“You know what I mean.” Abbie replied, eyerolling again, “I still can’t believe you did that, Mr. Prim and Proper.”  
“I apparently have instincts in this feline form, and I was compelled by them,” Crane answered in a huff. “Did you not hear how she insulted me, Leftenant?”  
“Did you not notice that your entire back end is quite furry? Certain... anatomical bits... aren’t as noticeable when they’re covered in fur!” Abbie said, shaking her head, “I cannot believe I’m having this conversation with you.”

Crane sighed.

“Fine. Then I shall apologize to Miss Jenny first thing tomorrow.”  
“No, don’t worry about it. There’s really no need to tell her. We’ll just get through the next four days as best we can and hopefully, put all of this behind us.” Said Abbie with a sigh.

She took the poop scooper from the bag, and used it to smooth out the litter as best she could.

“But, the next time you feel the need to use the toilet, Crane, here’s where you go.” Abbie told him, pointing at the litter box.

Crane looked at Abbie, then at the litter box, and then back at Abbie.

“I... I beg your pardon?” Crane said in a horrified tone.  
“It’s a litter box. Cat toilet. You hop in, you scratch, you do your business?”

Crane’s kitty mouth fell open.

“I will certainly _not_ be using a... a... litter box!” He protested. 

Abbie pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I am not leaving a window open all the time just so you can run outside to poop.”  
“Go outside to defecate?!” He said, even more horrified, “You must be joking!”  
“CRANE!” Abbie growled.

Crane cocked his head sideways at her, narrowing his twinkling eyes.

“Though I am cursed into this form, Leftenent,” he said, sitting up proudly, “I am perfectly capable of using the toilet. I still possess my dignity, after all!”  
“Fine,” she said, her tone biting, as she reached down and lifted the seat cover for him, “be sure to flush.”

Abbie turned and left, closing the door to all but a small crack, behind her.

Crane let off a tiny “mew,” gazing down at the toilet. With as much grace as he could muster, he carefully hopped onto the toilet seat, circling it once and looking for the best position in which to do his business. After a few moments, he positioned himself on the front edge, lining up his paws and squatting. His tail twitched as he began to tinkle.

“Yes, this is far more dignified than a ‘litter box,’” he called to Abbie as he finished peeing.  
“That’s great, Crane,” she replied, deadpan, from the bedroom.

A few seconds later, a loud “plop” echoed from the bathroom and Crane sighed, relieved. A second and then a third “plop” followed moments later.

Crane meowed again, satisfied with himself. With great agility, he stood back up on his four paws, and padded carefully along the toilet seat towards the back. He then eyed the silver handle, looking quite determined.

“Now, to flush,” he mumbled, mostly to himself; as he sat his furry rear down on the seat, balancing as best he could.

He reached up with his left paw, slapping at the handle, but it barely moved. He tried again, slapping harder, but still, nothing happened. Crane then growled at the handle, and tried a third time, slapping and pulling at it as hard as he could muster.

_WHOOOOOOSH!_

“Ha! Success!” He exclaimed, suddenly forgetting himself and hopping up excitedly. He quickly realized the mistake. It was his back paw that gave way first, slipping off the seat and into the swirling water. His leg followed, and then his other leg, and his tail; and finally, the rest of him hit the icy water with splash.

“MRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOW!!!!” He howled, as the toilet spun his rear end around, wedging him between the seat and the bowl. Water flew everywhere, and one more tiny turd escaped from him - mainly out of shock.

Crane fought hard, trying to right himself, but his fuzzy legs flailed in the air as the toilet bowl began to refill with water. He panicked at the rising water, and then he flailed even harder.

“LEF...LEFTENANT!” He wailed, still fighting against the water, “I’M...I’M DROWNING! HELP MEEEEEEEEEEOW!”

The door flew open at the same time the water shut off. Abbie rushed in, but quickly stopped and crossed her arms as she took in the scene. Crane was stuck partially through the toilet seat, up to his furry chin in water. His legs were still flailing and twitching, and his tail was fully submerged and tucked up under him quite uncomfortably. He stared up at Abbie and mewled sadly.

Abbie shook her head and smirked.

“What was that you were saying about your ‘dignity,’ Crane?” She asked...


End file.
